Bloodsinger
by BlueOrchid2
Summary: Slash: Harry has just gone back to Privet Drive after his fourth year at Hogwarts. When he follows a mysterious woman to an unknown destination and all his beliefs suddenly come crashing down, who is going to be there to help him pick up the pieces? Creature!Harry
1. Chapter 1

Standing at the entrance of the Maze, Harry looked back at the stands surrounding the Quidditch Pitch, wanting to wave to the Weasleys. Almost immediately though, his eyes were pulled to the right, and he found himself staring in the most captivating eyes he had ever seen. They were pale green, and they belonged to a child that was at most seven years old. He was so distracted by him that he almost missed Bagman's whistle, signalling the beginning of the Third Task. Startled, he ran into the maze, completely forgetting those mesmerizing eyes.

* * *

A hooded form moved quickly between the houses of Privet Drive, pausing only momentarily at the edge of Number Four. The lamplight illuminated the figure's feminine form as it climbed the wall and quickly snuck inside a second floor window. Silently looking around, the woman noticed the caged owl staring curiously at her and the worn and sparse furniture in the little room, before concentrating on the sleeping child. Padding closer, she noticed that the boy was having a nightmare and he was whimpering and trembling in his sleep. Leaning over him, she brushed her hand over his face, trying to comfort him. A horrified gasp escaped her lips when she saw the child's forehead: Black Magic was swirling around a scar marring his pretty face, containing inside something even more sinister. Unfortunately, the boy chose that moment to groggily open his eyes, and the woman quickly hid away her surprise and disgust.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, still only half awake.

"They call me Cassandra, child," she answered softly, "come, pack your things, you're coming with me."

"Where to? And did Dumbledore send you?", the child asked, but started packing his things all the same.

The woman only hummed noncommittally in answer, while unlocking the snowy owl's cage and releasing her outside the window. After a few minutes, Harry broke the silence again, "My trunk with my school things is downstairs locked in the cupboard."

The woman moved to lead the way out of the room, but stopped in front of the door: "The door is locked from the outside…", she said, looking at the boy in surprise, "how do you get out?"

"My Aunt locked it. She lets me out whenever she remembers or when there are chores to do. …wait how did you get in?"

"Through the window…" the woman whispered, a horrified expression on her face. Shaking her head to clear it, she turned around again, opening the door with a burst of magic, not noticing the flabbergasted expression on the child's face at the nonchalant display of wandless magic. Repeating the process on the cupboard door, and retrieving the boy's trunk, she quickly lead the way outside, and down the street.

Finally outside the Blood Wards surrounding Number Four, she held out her hand, and apparated both of them to the other side of Britain.

* * *

Stumbling a bit, Harry tried to catch his breath after his first apparition, and decided that he absolutely loathed wizarding travel methods. Looking around, he noticed that they had landed in the middle of a forest, though a few houses could be seen not far from there. Staring at the sleeping village in the forest, it reminded Harry of Robin Hood, a story he had loved when he was a child. It really looked like a peaceful place, and Cassandra's presence at his side relaxed him even more. He had no idea why she had such a calming effect on him, and why he just knew that he could trust her. It was a novel experience for Harry, who usually was very suspicious of people and never trusted those he didn't know well. After all, it had taken him almost two years to completely trust Ron and Hermione. After Ron had abandoned him after his name had come out of the Goblet, he had felt more betrayed then ever before, and even though he had said that he had forgiven him, Harry knew that he would never trust Ron completely again.

After giving the kid a smile, Cassandra started striding towards the houses, lowering her hood. Harry observed her in the moonlight: she looked to be in her early twenties, with blond hair in a messy ponytail and a plain face. Her only striking feature were her pale blue eyes: Harry couldn't really say why, but there was something captivating about them, and a certain maturity which you wouldn't expect in someone so young.

They had arrived in the village, and Harry looked around: all the houses were made of wood, and looked little more than cabins. The only one which stuck out was a brick two story house situated in what looked like the central square, and it was one of the few which still had lights coming from inside, despite the late hour. Cassandra opened the door and gestured to leave his trunk in the entry hall, before leading Harry to the kitchen, where a man and a child where waiting for them.

Harry gasped: the child was the one he had seen at the Triwizard Tournament! The only reason he recognized him were the pale green eyes, similar to Cassandra's, which were now staring intently at his scar. Now that he was closer, Harry noticed that the boy was blond, and he looked like the type of child who made elderly ladies stop in the street to coddle and praise him, he was so beautiful.

"Who's this?", the man asked. He was very tall and muscular, and had long dark brown hair, flowing over his shoulders, but it was his amber eyes that immediately caught Harry's attention: those were a werewolf's eyes. He had already seen eyes like his, every time that Remus Lupin got really angry or excited.

"Oh Merlin! I actually forgot! I didn't even ask your name! I'm so sorry dear, but I was really in a hurry to get out of there, you know?", Cassandra rambled, looking at him with guilt filled eyes.

"Er… my name is Harry Potter."

Cassandra smiled obliviously at him, while the child snorted, and the man just sat there with a horrified expression.

"Well, Harry, it's a pleasure to meet you! This is going to be your new home from now on, unless you wish to stay somewhere else that is, but you'll always be welcomed here anyways… still, maybe it's best if we explain the situation tomorrow morning, when we'll be more awake an-"

"What! Are you insane!", the man suddenly yelled, stirring from his shock, "Do you want to get me killed? What the hell were you thinking? Harry Bloody Potter?!", the werewolf raged, his eyes even brighter than before.

"Wh-what? I-I don't…"

"Mother," the child's voice interrupted the man's tirade, "Harry Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived. You know, the kid they have been slandering in that Daily Prophet rag the last few weeks? Voldemort's enemy?"

"Oh… oh!" Cassandra's eyes grew round in comprehension, and she gazed thoughtfully at him. A few minutes passed in silence, Harry fidgeting nervously, and the werewolf trying to regain his temper.

"Cassy," the man suddenly declared, "give him to me. I'll bring him to the Dark Lord."

"Don't be ridiculous Fenrir!" the child protested, "he's a Potential! There is no way that we're setting him up to die! And what for? That idiotic wizard with delusions of grandeur that you love to grovel for?" the man growled, and looked about to attack the kid, when Cassandra interfered, a furious expression on her face:

"No."

The woman's chilly answer was enough to put an immediate end to the discussion, and the werewolf left the kitchen cursing, and slamming the front door so hard the whole house shook. Heaving a sigh, Cassandra put a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, and steered him upstairs, levitating his trunk behind them. They entered a room all decked in green, with a bed, dresser, desk and private bathroom attached, which Cassandra told Harry was going to be his own personal room from now on. Harry almost didn't hear her explain that they ate breakfast in the kitchen, and apologize for Fenrir's horrible manners. The moment that she stepped out of the room, wishing him a good night, he collapsed on the bed, and immediately fell asleep, without even taking off his shoes.

* * *

Harry woke with the sun streaming on his face. He blinked groggily, looking around the room, and trying to remember when he had painted his room green. His memories from last night suddenly came back to him, and he immediately shot up from the bed, panicked: he had blindly followed a complete stranger to who knows where! In the middle of the night, with Voldemort hell-bent on killing him! Oh he was so screwed! It was the most idiotic thing he had ever done! And he had done quite a few stupid things in his life!

Sighing heavily, and trying to control his panic, he wandered down the stairs, his wand firmly in hand. He was debating whether he should try making a run for it or not, when Cassandra called his name from the kitchen. Reluctantly, he entered the room, where she greeted him with a peck on the cheek, somehow making his panic lessen with such a simple gesture, and told him to sit down next to Joshua. Seeing as the green-eyed child was the only one there, Harry resolved that was his name, and sat down. Cassandra soon served them bacon and eggs, and poured him some apple juice.

"Do you know you have a Horcrux in your forehead?", Joshua suddenly asked, gazing curiously at him.

"E-excuse me?"

"A Horcrux. Using a Black Magic ritual and a human sacrifice, a wizard can split a part of their soul and store it somewhere else, in order to achieve immortality. Someone stored a piece of their soul in your forehead." The child stated matter-of-factly, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'I bet my villa in Spain that it was Voldemort' under his breath.

"Oh, so that's what it is?" Cassandra inquired, "I was wondering about it… I noticed the Black Magic of course, but I really couldn't understand what it contained."

Noticing Harry's pallor and completely horror-struck expression, she gently asked him, "Didn't you know, dear? Haven't you ever been to a Healer before?"

"Y-yes, in Hogwart's hospital wing…"

"And the mediwitch never told you anything? She didn't even try to remove it?"

Frantically shaking his head, Harry clasped his hands together under the table, trying to stop their shaking, and didn't notice the grim look that passed between the two blonds.

"Well!" Cassandra suddenly exclaimed, startling Harry out of his horrified thoughts and his feelings of profound betrayal, "that's not a problem! I can remove it for you. What do you think? We could do the ritual today, as soon as you finish breakfast."

"R-really? You could? T-thank you Ma'am!"

Cassandra just smiled gently at him, and told him off for not calling her 'Cassy', and hurried quickly out to prepare the ritual circle.

"What's a ritual circle?" Harry asked perplexed the moment she was out the room.

"Cassandra is a Ritual Master. She specializes in healing rituals and blood magic. A ritual circle is the space surrounded by runes and geometrical patterns inside of which you will have to stand during a ritual."

"Oh, I see… You know a lot."

Joshua laughed and told Harry, "Of course I do! I'm not a child, I just look like one. I'm actually 45 years old, but since I was turned when I was five, I grow up at a much slower rate than humans. Cassy teases me by saying that my subconscious likes to be a kid, that's why I grow up so slowly."

"T-turned?"

"Yeah, I'm a Bloodsinger. Didn't you notice the eyes and the teeth?" he asked, showing off his canines. Surprised, Harry wondered how he hadn't noticed them before: they were more like fangs than teeth, curved and almost double the length of the other teeth. Feeling very ignorant, Harry flushed and asked:

"Uhm… what's a Bloodsinger?"

Chuckling, Joshua replied, "Don't worry, we're quite rare. You grew up in a Muggle household, right? It's usually purebloods who remember the stories from the Old Days, you know, the time the muggles call the Middle Ages. We were much more diffused then, now we're almost on the brink of extinction. Here, I'll give you a book to read."

Running out of the room, Joshua came back a few minutes later with a thick tome labelled _Magical Humanoid Beings _and opened it to the section on Bloodsingers, before handing it to Harry.

Harry soon became engrossed in the description of this species he had never heard of before:

_Bloodsingers_

_Bloodsingers are commonly identified as the evolution of the Vampires (see pg. 246). Like Vampires, they can be identified by they long curved canines, and their pale mesmerizing eyes, but unlike them they are not usually subjected to uncontrollable bloodlust. In fact, Bloodsingers very rarely feed on blood, only if they get close to a human who has a very enticing aroma, which is subjective to each individual. Indeed, in normal circumstances, these beings eat like normal humans and sleep an average of 5-6 hours a night._

_The only way for a Bloodsinger to be created is by turning a Potential. Turning consists in biting a Potential and releasing venom in blood stream. It causes mild weariness for about 24 hours, while the body adapts to the changes._

_A Potential is a human being that has the capability of becoming a Bloodsinger, and can be identified easily by a fully developed Bloodsinger by the 'Pull'. This is a phenomenon that creates strong protective urges in the Bloodsinger towards the Potential, and feelings of trust in the Potential towards the Bloodsinger. Potentials can be Wizardfolk or Muggles, though it is rumoured that there have been a few Veela and Merfolk, but there is no concrete evidence of such cases. It is not quite know how Potentials manifest, because it has occurred more than once that a child born from two Bloodsingers was in fact only a normal wizard, and not a Potential as would be expected._

_Bloodsingers have much longer lifespans than Muggles or Wizards, as their body normally ages about 1-2 years every 50 years. This of course means that Potentials that are turned very young live much longer than those turned when they are elderly. Also, the Potentials who used to be Muggles before their turning have shorter lifespans than Wizardfolk and, the bigger an individual's magical power, the longer their natural life._

_Species abilities: all Bloodsingers see magic. Most can easily distinguish between Light, Dark and Black Magic, but their real speciality are Blood Magics, of which they have a natural understanding and ability, even those that used to be Muggles: it is one of the few instances in which non-magical beings can learn to wield magic. For these reasons, the best Ward Masters and spell inventors throughout history have in fact been Bloodsingers, especially in the Aztec civilisation._

_Bloodsingers share a very close bond, that has frequently been defined as 'a natural alliance', with Werewolves (see pg. 123), especially Natural-born Werewolves. In fact, both are characterized by their complete control over their senses the majority of the time, which is lost to bloodlust or madness only in the case of very intense emotions or extraordinary prey. Another similarity between these two species is that both are dismissive of Vampires: Werewolves like hunting Vampires for sport during the full moon, whereas Bloodsingers consider Vampires similarly to the way Wizardfolk consider House-elves (see pg. 354)._

_Sadly, Bloodsingers are nowadays very rare. This is a direct consequence of the thirty year long Great Blood War in the early 1600s, which wiped out the majority of the Bloodsingers and Potentials worldwide._

"Harry! I'm ready! Come outside, dear!"

Harry was startled from his reading by the sound of Cassandra's voice, and hurried outside. A crowd was already gathered, and Harry immediately noticed that there, right in front of the house and in the middle of the street, Cassy had drawn a big red circle, contained in an black octagon, with what looked suspiciously like a muggle felt-tipped pen. Between the two figures were written a multitude of green and yellow Runes, all in different sizes, and in no order that Harry could figure out. Inside the circle were Harry's trunk and backpack, both of which he hadn't yet unpacked. Motioning him forward, and making him stand in the middle of the circle, Cassandra quickly explained:

"This is a high level modified purification ritual. I made it so it will completely eliminate all outside unwanted interferences. It is your subconscious which will direct the spell, and that's why I put your trunks in here too: any spell that has been applied to your things without your consent will be removed, and the same goes for your body. Moreover, since it's originally a Light purification ritual, it will eliminate all traces of Dark and Black Magics from inside the circle. I already used a spell on your trunks, to check if you have any Dark artefacts inside which may be ruined, but you don't have any, so… you don't mind do you? I hadn't meant to invade your privacy, but I get carried away when I'm setting up a ritual." She finished with a sheepish smile.

"Oh no, its all right… will you be able to tell which spells have been removed by the ritual afterwards?"

"Yes, since I'm the Enhancer, the one who powers the ritual, I'll be able to tell. Of course, I could miss a few if there are many, especially if it's a spell I'm unfamiliar with, but I usually catch the majority."

Nodding, Harry watched her carefully step outside the octagon, and kneel on the ground. A hush fell on the crowd -which Harry noticed consisted mostly, if not completely, of Werewolves- who was watching the ritual from a safe distance, and Harry began having even worse doubts than when he had woken up. After all, he was inside a ritual circle, made by a virtual stranger that he somehow trusted more than he had ever trusted anyone in his whole life, and the last (and only) ritual that he had ever witnessed had resulted in the rebirth of his worst enemy. Before his doubts could develop in a full-blown panic attack, Cassandra began murmuring in another language, though she spoke too lowly for Harry to distinguish which. The circle began to glow red, with the Runes and the octagon soon following, and Harry was traversed by a pleasant tingle, concentrated especially on his scar. The tingle though soon morphed in a painful burn on his scar and a blinding headache behind his eyes. Whimpering, Harry fell to his knees, holding his head. Just when the edges of his vision were starting to grow dark and he was about to pass out from the throbbing in his brain and forehead, the pain disappeared. Panting, he collapsed to the ground, completely exhausted. He was manoeuvred to lie on his back, his head resting on someone's lap, their fingers gently carding through his hair. Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, catching his breath and trying to make the nausea pass, but when he finally opened his eyes, he noticed it was Cassandra's lap on which he was resting. She was distracted, listening to Joshua, who was waving a wand towards Harry, and muttering angrily what looked like medical diagnostic spells, both their expressions grim. Still a bit out of it, and not understanding half the terms the child-adult was sprouting, Harry used the time to observe Cassy closely. Now that he knew what to look for, it was quite easy to recognize her as a Bloodsinger: she had pale skin, not marred by imperfections like normal humans, pale eyes that were slightly different from normal, though Harry couldn't really pinpoint what the difference was, and whenever she opened her mouth, her long canines where visible to all.

"You're a Bloodsinger." Harry found himself stating without really meaning to.

Startled, Cassandra looked down at the child in her lap, and answered: "Yes, I am. And you're a Potential, my dear. Come, let's go discuss what happened inside, in front of a cup of tea."

Stumbling slightly, Harry managed to stand, and shuffled inside, collapsing on the couch in the sitting room. Joshua curled on an armchair, a thunderous expression on his face, and Cassandra came back a few minutes later, settling on the couch next to him. Looking at Joshua and seeing that he had no intention of speaking, Cassandra began:

"There were quite a few spells on your belongings. The simplest ones to remove where a tracking charm on your trunk, one on your bag, and one on an item inside your trunk. And of course, the Ministry Trace on your wand is also gone."

"W-what? Really? I can do magic during the summer now?"

"Yes, of course. The Trace is set during the wand construction, so once it's removed, you can't put it back."

"Wow, I didn't know that. Wait, what if someone who is of age breaks their wand and has to buy another?"

"The Trace works with magical maturity. So, if a child is using their parent's wand during the holidays, it can still be tracked by the Ministry. Anyway, this is not really important. What is important is that the ritual should have not hurt you that much. Yes, I was expecting some pain with the removal of the Horcrux, but I wasn't counting on Mind Magic. You see, Harry dear, you had a Memory Charm and a couple Compulsions Charms on you. That's why it hurt you so much."

Horrified, Harry looked at Cassandra, hoping it was a joke, but seeing her serious expression, and Joshua glaring at the fireplace in stony silence, he realized that they were actually telling the truth. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Harry asked, "Can you tell me what they were for?"

"No, I'm sorry, I can't. Though you will probably dream the memory that had been Obliviated from your conscious in the next few days. As for the Compulsions, the most that I can tell you is that they had the same magical signature as the Memory Charm. So, if you find out who Obliviated you, you will also find who put those two Compulsions on you."

Not very reassured, Harry only nodded numbly. Sensing the child's distress, Cassy put a hand around his shoulders, and tugged him into her side. After a few minutes of leaning onto her, Harry finally relaxed in her hold.

"What am I going to do now?" he whispered, his voice breaking on the last word.

Breaking the silence, Joshua answered, "Nothing. You're going to sign a document that gives Mother the authority to speak to your solicitor as your temporary guardian, and then you'll let us adults take care of everything."

Harry almost broke out in hysterical laughter when he heard the tiny seven-year-old refer to himself as an adult, but managed to keep silent. He didn't manage to stop the tears from finally falling though, and was soon sobbing desperately on Cassandra's shoulder. He had no idea how long he cried on her shoulder, and when he finally had no more tears to cry, the last thing he thought before falling asleep, listening to her gentle murmurs, and feeling her fingers card gently through his hair, was that this was probably what people felt when they had a mother.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was woken up by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He immediately recognized the owner as Cassandra, telling him that it was dinnertime. He got up from the couch, a blanket falling off him, and shuffled to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. There he found Joshua and Fenrir already seated, while Cassandra was serving dinner.

"Do you need some help?"

"No, of course not dear. It's my cooking day, anyway."

"Cooking day?"

"Yes, of course. Joshua, Fenrir and I take turns cooking. It's only fair after all."

Harry nodded, surprised. All the homes to which he had been invited it was always the woman who cooked, Mrs Weasley and Aunt Petunia being the prime examples. But then, he realized that neither of them worked, while Cassandra probably did: she was a Ritual Master after all. Thinking about it, he wondered who cooked in the Granger household, and resolved to ask Hermione. Thinking of his friends made him wonder when would be next time that he would see them, and feelings of guilt and indecision immediately made themselves known. The dinner passed in silence, with Harry brooding, and he missed the speculative glances that Fenrir was sending his way. After clearing the plates, the four of them retired to the sitting room, where Cassy showed him an official looking document, which enabled her to speak as his temporary guardian to a solicitor and his estate manager in Gringotts. After explaining the bureaucratic lingo for him, Harry signed it, and they passed on to lighter topics.

"Your owl arrived as you were sleeping. Smart bird, that one. Not many owls manage to find this place. Oh, and do you like your room Harry? We can always change the colour scheme if you wish. It'll only take a few minutes."

"No, it's all right, I like green. As long as it's not Slytherin green."

"You go to Hogwarts?", Joshua interrupted, "Do you like it there?"

"Yes, very much! It's like a second home to me."

"Umpf. Too bad the standards have fallen so low. In the last century that school has gone from being the world's best to a substandard education facility. Really, the English are so stiff and bigoted, it's no wonder they're falling behind."

"Joshua! Please, leave the kid alone. It's not his fault the Headmasters are doing an awful job," Cassandra rose to Harry defence.

"Oh, come on! Can you imagine having a Restricted Section in a library? Closing off all knowledge that isn't perfectly Light! As if you can't kill people with those spells too. Please, everyone knows that all the best healing spells are Dark. Why do you think so many rich British citizens go abroad when they have serious illnesses?"

"Not to mention the discrimination," Fenrir interceded, "all the magical kids in my pack go to Durmstrang. It gives a much more rounded education and costs about half."

"Costs? I thought Hogwarts was free. I mean, I never paid anything," Harry wondered, "and they told me that my name had been down for Hogwarts since I was born."

"Oh, then your parents probably paid all the fees in advance. Many people do. This way, they don't have to worry about it every year and the price doesn't suffer from inflation," Cassandra reassured him.

Harry hummed in agreement, and listened silently as the discussion wore on. He soon learned that Joshua hated standardized education and schools, but insisted that when he would finally look eleven he will enrol in a school just to create chaos. Cassandra insisted instead that kids should all go to school and then travel the world to round their magical education, while Fenrir liked to play the devil's advocate and contradict everything the other two said. This finally irritated Joshua and Cassandra so much that they started a pillow fight against the man, in which Harry was somehow included, and which soon evolved in a tickle fight, with Cassandra tackling Harry and Joshua Fenrir, somehow managing to pin him to the ground despite the huge difference in height.

Harry didn't notice that it was the first time in months that he had actually had a good time and laughed freely, forgetting all of his problems. Half an hour later, they all went to bed, and Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

The next day was spent exploring the Werewolf camp and the surrounding woods with Joshua, and playing football with a group of Werewolf teens after lunch. Harry actually recognized one from the Durmstrang delegation that had been at Hogwarts the past year, and they struck up a conversation on the difference between their schools, joined by a few others who wanted to know more about Hogwarts from an inside source. None of them commented on his scar or treated him differently than they did each other, and Harry wondered sadly if this was what being a normal teenager was like. A bitter pang of resentment and anger grew in his chest, surprising him with its intensity, and scaring him a little. Feeling completely off-kilter, he confided in Joshua when they got back to the house. The child gave him a long searching look, taking in his agitated face, and grimly told him:

"It's probably an effect of the Compulsions having been lifted. The most I can speculate is that one of the two probably muted what would be considered your 'negative' feelings. Anger, bitterness, resentment, vindictiveness, etcetera."

"But why? Why would someone want to do something like that to me?"

"Probably to make you into a more amiable and malleable person. This way, if someone wronged or manipulated you and you found out, you would probably forgive them very quickly. For you to actually lose your temper, you would need quite a bit of stored resentment and anger."

"You mean they made it so I wouldn't lose my temper? They did it for me?"

Joshua snorted bitterly, "Don't be ridiculous child. They did it for themselves. They muddied your mind to make sure that you would follow whatever path they had set for you. So what if you naturally have a temper? You're a Potential, it's typical: all Bloodsingers have fiery tempers! You should see Cassandra when she loses hers… you're lucky that she's been trying to rein it in for your sake. She doesn't want to scare you, but she's really protective of you. You'll see tonight, she'll be livid after having met with your solicitor. Don't be scared of your emotions kid. Even if you do lose your temper, I promise you it won't be the worst we've seen."

"I-I don't know… I've never felt like this before, and I'm scared of hurting someone. I feel like a ticking bomb!"

At this, Joshua actually laughed heartily, "You? Hurting us? Sweetheart, some twenty years ago Mother and I had a huge fight for some useless reason that we can't even remember. At the end of it, we had burned our whole house and half the block down with Fiendfyre and then had to leaved the country in a hurry because we were wanted for questioning by the Ministry… it'll be a long time before we step foot in the States again," Joshua chuckled merrily, his eyes twinkling at the flabbergasted expression of Harry's face.

"Oh… well that's… intense?" Harry searched for the right word, making Joshua cackle even louder. A few minutes later, Harry suddenly asked something that had been bothering him:

"Joshua, what's the difference between a Natural-born Werewolf and a normal Werewolf?"

The child-adult barely blinked at the non sequitur and when explained in what Harry had already dubbed his 'teacher mode':

"Well, the difference between the two is that Natural-born Werewolves are already born with the gift, and don't have to be bitten like the rest."

"Gift?"

"Yes, being a Werewolf."

"Oh… everyone I know calls it a curse…"

The seven-year-old snorted, "Of course they would. I'm sorry to tell you kid, but Wizardfolk in the UK are some of the most bigoted and prejudiced people in the world. It's the reason why most Muggleborns leave the country or return to the Muggle world at the end of their Hogwarts careers."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Yeah, well, it's not very publicized here, but it's a known fact in the rest of the magical world. Anyway, back to Werewolves, Natural-borns have almost complete control of their senses during the full moon, and with training they can also learn to transform at will during the month. It's sort of like the Animagus transformation, only a bit easier."

"They can control themselves during the full moon? Wow… why have I never heard of this before?"

"Mostly. Fenrir says it's a bit like being drunk. You can control what you're doing but all your inhibitions are much lower. And you probably never heard of it because Natural-born Werewolves are quite rare. In fact, I'm pretty sure there are only two of them in Britain at the moment. You see, at least one of their parents has to be a Werewolf, and it's a one in a thousand chance. Even when both the parents are Werewolves, there's only about one in a hundred chance of getting a Natural-born baby."

"The chances are much higher than that if you have a Natural-born ancestor," a voice interrupted, making Harry jump. Turning around, he saw Fenrir leaning on the doorjamb, watching him coldly, "Move it, dinner is ready."

Shuffling quickly to the kitchen, Harry immediately noticed Cassandra sitting at the table, reading some documents, a furious expression on her face. The moment she spotted him though her face cleared, and she quickly moved the parchments aside and inquired about his day. Fenrir served dinner, and the conversation soon moved to Quidditch. When Joshua found out that Harry had a Firebolt and played as Seeker just like him, he immediately scheduled a match for the next day, telling Harry that half the pack would be interested, and they would certainly have an abundance of volunteers. Even Fenrir looked interested, while Cassy raised a sceptical brow and remarked that heights and high velocity really weren't her thing. After dinner, Harry went to sleep almost immediately, completely exhausted both physically and mentally.

* * *

_Harry sobbed on the floor, his throat completely hoarse from screaming. His pained yells had subsided in pitiful whimpers, and he hurt so much that he almost didn't notice when his Uncle hit him once more, this time in the chest. The next hit though managed to tear a tormented shriek from his throat, as the eight-year-old felt his left wrist break. A couple hits later, the child started retching blood on the floor, and a few minutes later he fell blissfully unconscious in a pool of his own blood and vomit._

_Consciousness returned slowly, and with it the memories of his last brutal beating by his drunken Uncle. Looking around, Harry blearily noticed that he was on the couch in the living room, and that his whole body hurt. At least, it wasn't a sharp pain, even though he could have sworn that he felt his wrist and at least a couple of ribs break. Now, they only felt tender, and the rest of the pain was tolerable: it wasn't the first time this happened after all, though this had been by far the worst._

_Hearing movement from the next room, and knowing that freaks weren't supposed to dirty the furniture, Harry quickly climbed down from the couch, and peeked in the kitchen. There he saw one of the weirdest things ever: an elderly man with long white hair and beard, dressed in a yellow suit with purple flowers, was waving a stick in front of Uncle Vernon, and muttering in a weird language. Vernon's eyes were glassy and unfocused, and he almost seemed to be drooling. The old man quickly finished waving the stick, and turned around towards Harry, motioning him forward._

_"Hello, my boy. Are you feeling well?"_

_Harry nodded numbly, scared of this weird man, even though he was looking at him with kind eyes._

_"Good, good. Now, I really have to go. We'll see each other in three year's time, though you won't remember me. I can't wait to have you in Gryffindor House! Ah well, all in good time."_

_And with a last kind smile, the man pointed his stick at Harry, and muttered "Obliviate!", followed by a string of weird words, and stick-waving. He then abruptly pocketed the piece of wood, and left the house, muttering to himself: "Good, like this I can be sure the kid won't turn Dark. Now, how to make sure he doesn't end in Slytherin? Have to gently coax his beliefs…" and he was out the door. Harry stood in the middle of the kitchen, watching his drunken Uncle with glassy eyes, and wondered why he felt like he had just forgotten something important._

* * *

Startling awake, Harry ran to his bathroom, and made it just in time. Retching in the toilet, desperate tears rolling down his face, he tried to delude himself into believing that it had just been a nightmare, but couldn't shake away the feeling that this was in fact the memory which had been Obliviated from his mind. Trembling, he finally managed to shakily stand up and wash his mouth and face. Looking at the clock, he noticed that only an hour had passed from when he had gone to sleep, so he made his way downstairs, hoping that Cassandra and Joshua were still awake.

He found the door to the sitting room ajar, voices coming from inside. Pausing a moment to gather his courage, Harry heard Cassandra's irate voice:

"He didn't even have a solicitor, can you believe that? I went to speak with Gunnard in the end, they say he's the best in Britain. He's going to sue the Prophet and the Ministry tomorrow for the slander campaign, together with both Hogwarts and their Mediwitch for severe negligence. Really, make a fourteen-year-old compete in the Triwizard Tournament? Who's the idiot who made him do it? Everyone knows that magical binding contracts work only if you're of age! And that's not the only criminally negligent case either! A troll in first year! And a rumoured Basilisk and petrifications in second! He was almost Kissed by Dementors in third year! Unbelievable!"

"Have you talked about the abuse?" Joshua interrupted her tirade.

"Yes, he's filing a lawsuit in both the Magical and the Muggle world against his Aunt and Uncle. Gunnard is pretty sure they'll be looking at a couple of years of jail time. Have you found your notes for the nutritional potions and the cream for scarring?"

"No, I'm almost sure I left them in Spain. I was thinking about going tomorrow evening or the day after."

"How about a vacation then? We go to Spain for a couple of days, and then we move to my new house in Croatia. The kid will enjoy the beach I think. He's sickly pale, and almost anorexic. Some change of scenery will do him good. Are you coming too Fenrir?"

"No." the Werewolf's gruff voice answered, "I have things to do, and Voldemort is breathing down my neck. I swear the man is even more insane than fifteen years ago. And Potter? Stop loitering outside the door like an idiot and come inside."

Jumping, Harry flushed in shame at getting caught eavesdropping and shuffled inside. Cassandra gave him a worried look, and dragged him on the couch beside her.

"We were just talking about you, dear, and what happened at the solicitor's. Are you alright? You look pale. Couldn't you sleep?"

Shaking his head and glancing warily at Fenrir, Harry whispered, "I had a dream…", his voice breaking at the end. Comprehension lit Cassandra and Joshua's faces and the two of them shared a grim look.

"You dreamed about the memory? Did you find out who Obliviated you?" Cassy asked gently, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly. Crying silently, Harry explained what had happened:

"Yeah… it happened when I was eight. My Uncle beat me half to death, and Dumbledore showed up. He cured the worst injuries and the Obliviated both of us. He then put another spell on us, something with long Latin incantation. Do you think that could have been the Compulsions?"

"Did it sound something like this?" Joshua asked, before spewing out a litany of Latin words while waving his wand arm in the air.

"Yes, it sounded similar…"

"Then it was probably the Compulsion."

Stony silence met the child's declaration, and Harry looked at the grim faces. Joshua looked like he was about to go on a rampage, Cassandra looked on the verge of tears and even Fenrir looked disgusted. Harry felt a wonderful thrill travel through him: he had never had anyone who actually cared about him only for himself, and yet here he was, surrounded by people who actually protected him and didn't try to hide things from him 'for his own good'. Shaking his head, Harry realized that he was probably still in shock, because he still couldn't really wrap his head around the fact that Dumbledore had place him under two Compulsion Charms. Not only that, but he actually knew first-hand how bad his life was at the Dursleys, and he still insisted that he go back to live there every summer. Hell, he probably even knew that he had to sleep in a boot cupboard, and he hadn't even done anything to change that!

Cassandra's voice shook him from his musings, asking him if he was alright. When Harry nodded, she proceeded to explain all that had transpired with his new solicitor, whose name was Mark Gunnard and worked in the largest lawyer firm in Britain. Most of the things were what Harry had already heard while eavesdropping, though she also added that he should have been getting documents from his estate manager in Gringotts at least once a semester. Seeing as Harry didn't even know that he _had_ an estate manager, she soon discovered that somebody had set up an owl post block without his knowledge, which gave Gunnard one more person to sue. After she finished explaining everything, Cassandra asked him if he could give Pensieve memories of every time he had felt threatened, was in a life and death situation or there was just something fishy going on. She promised that the only one who would see them was his lawyer, which was magically bound by client confidentiality, and that even she wouldn't look at them. Also, Pensieve memories couldn't be used in court unless they were extracted in front of the jury, so Harry spent the next half hour extracting memories and putting them in little vials that Joshua had obtained in the meantime. Finally finished, Harry started climbing the stairs to go to bed, after receiving a hug and an 'I'm so proud of you' from Cassandra which made a warm fuzzy feeling settle in his stomach and a silly grin appear on his face.

Before reaching his room he was stopped by Joshua, who gave him a muggle diary and pen, and told him that he should use it to sort his thoughts now that he was free from Compulsions, especially regarding the Headmaster, his friends and his school. Feeling completely overwhelmed, Harry just nodded, and finally collapsed on his bed, immediately falling asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning was completely dedicated to Quidditch. Two teams were formed, and Harry found himself competing against Joshua. It was one of the few times in which his rival Seeker was actually a match for him: the only one who had ever gotten close was Cedric, and even he wasn't at Harry's level. Joshua instead used his small stature as an advantage, and pulled even more crazy stunts than Harry did. He had a Nimbus 2001, so they were almost on par, and yet Harry only managed to catch the Snitch three times out of five. Even so, everyone had a wonderful time, even though the Werewolf teenagers played really dirty, and the boy who was acting as referee yelled himself hoarse trying to keep everyone in line. Still laughing, Harry and Joshua headed back home, and after a quick shower, Harry started making lunch. He had never cooked in a magical kitchen, and it took him a few minutes of getting used to, but he quickly settled into a rhythm, the familiar motions coming naturally to him. It was only when he turned around to get another ingredient from the table that he noticed both Joshua and Fenrir staring at him from the doorway. Startled, he flushed in embarrassment, and immediately began to worry that he was in trouble, because he hadn't even asked permission to use the kitchen. To him surprise, Joshua only chuckled and commented:

"Don't be so self-conscious. You're adorable when you're concentrating."

Fenrir scoffed and made his way to the table, while Harry spluttered indignantly at being called adorable, and Joshua laughed merrily, reminding Harry that Cassy wouldn't be home for lunch.

The conversation at lunch revolved around Quidditch, and Joshua told Fenrir that one of his Werewolves showed some real promise as a Beater, and he should have him try out for a professional team. After lunch, Fenrir disappeared outside again and Joshua retired to the potion's lab. When Harry asked him why, the kid looked at him blankly and told him that he was a world renown Potion Master, and had he seriously never heard the name Joshua before? When Harry just shrugged sheepishly, Joshua rolled his eyes and muttered indignantly something that sounded suspiciously like 'ignorant Englishmen, how dare they not know my name?' and stalked to the dungeons. Sniggering, Harry went back to his room, and unpacked his clothes: Cassandra had sternly told him at breakfast that she would check over his whole wardrobe, and all the clothes which didn't pass her inspection would be thrown out. She had then started blabbering nonstop about the wonderful clothes stores they would find in Spain, and all the shopping trips they would go on, and maybe she could bring him to France and Italy on a day trip too? Thankfully, seeing his panic, Joshua had come to Harry's rescue, calming her down and telling her to let poor Harry breathe. Still, now that he thought back on it, Harry wondered that maybe he would have a good time going shopping with Cassandra. She seemed to prefer muggle clothes to robes, just like everyone else in this village, and only used a hooded cloak in the evenings when it was a bit chillier, and since Harry preferred muggle fashion too, he admitted to himself that she would probably give him good fashion tips.

That settled, Harry had just decided to start on his summer homework, when he noticed the diary Joshua had given him. Looking at it askance for a minute or two, Harry finally decided to follow his advice. Settling down and breathing deeply to gather his courage, Harry divided the first page in two columns and began writing all the positive things the Headmaster had done for him on one, and all the negative things on the other. Fifteen minutes later he had finished, and looked back at all he had written: the column with the negative impressions was completely full and went on for another two pages, whereas the positive column consisted in:

Is my Headmaster

Sent Hagrid to pick me up for Diagon Alley

Made Gryffindor win the House Cup first year

Is owner of Fawkes, who saved me from Basilisk

Told Hermione to use the Time-Turner and save Buckbeak and Sirius

Didn't get angry when I looked in his Pensieve

Shocked, Harry desperately tried to think about other positive things about him, but only came up with the end of first year when Dumbledore had refused to tell him the reason why Voldemort wanted him dead. And thinking about it, he _still_ didn't know why the madman tried to kill him when he was a baby!

Looking back forlornly at the very short list, his eyes fell on the point about the Time-Turner at the end of third year, he was stuck with a horrifying thought: why had the Headmaster made two thirteen year olds got back in time to a dangerous situation? He actually personally told them to save a Hippogriff about to be executed, and free a convicted prisoner. And Dumbledore _knew_ that they had to hide in the woods while surrounded by a transformed Werewolf and a swarm of Dementors! This discovery hit Harry worse than all the others in the last few days, even the Compulsions, because he couldn't lie to himself and say that it was done for his own good. And for the first time since Cassandra had started talking about solicitors and suing Hogwarts and the Headmaster, all the doubts Harry had -that this wasn't a good idea, and Dumbledore didn't deserve it- completely vanished, replaced by a bitter determination.

* * *

That afternoon Cassandra came back a few hours before dinner, and the two of them started checking over Harry's clothes, and then all the rest of his possessions. Harry was surprised at first that Cassy asked his opinion on things, and was very gentle in her criticisms, but he soon realized that she had a completely different character in comparison to Mrs Weasley, who was the only mother he had seen in action (and Aunt Petunia didn't count, because she always just let Dudley do whatever he wanted). Cassandra actually managed to make him promise to take better care of himself, and when he jokingly told her that his hair was a lost cause, a determined glint entered her pale eyes, and with a dark smile full of fangs, she set about trying to tame it, snipping at it with a conjured pair of scissors and waving her wand. Ten minutes later she pushed him in front of the mirror, and Harry could only stare at the stylish mess on top of his head. Chuckling, Cassandra taught him the charms she had used to keep it in place, and made him practice till he got them perfectly.

"Perfect!", she clapped her hand enthusiastically, bouncing around the room like a kid, "The girls will fall at your feet when you go back to school! You'll have new clothes, cool hair, a tan, some meat on those bones and no glasses! You're already handsome now, in September you'll be drop-dead gorgeous!"

"What do you mean no glasses?"

"Oh well, your vision will improve a lot when you'll be turned. We'll do it at the end of August I think, so you'll have time to take all those supplementary nutritional potions, and repair the damage those horrid muggles did by starving you."

"T-turned?" Harry squeaked.

"Well, yes… I thought you wanted to become a fully developed Bloodsinger. I'm sorry, I never thought you would be against it."

"Wh-what, no! I mean yes! I'd like to become a Bloodsinger! It's just… I don't really know… I'm just scared I'll lose control or something, and hurt someone. But if it helps me fight Voldemort…"

"Wait a minute! Why in the world would you have to fight that madman?"

"Well, I'm the Boy-Who-Lived."

"And…?"

"And? What do you mean and? People expect me to fight him!"

Cassandra snorted and commented bitterly:

"That Dumbledore moron really did a number on you did he? Harry, why in the world do you care about other people's expectations? Especially strangers' expectations? Why would you want to put your life on the line to fight against a madman for people who put all their hope on a fourteen-year-old kid? If you had told me that you wanted to fight Voldemort for revenge, for killing your parents, I would have let you do it, and helped you achieve your goal too. Instead, I'll never help and encourage you with something that you want to do because people _expect_" she spat the word, "it from you, and are too coward to do themselves. Harry darling, you already lost your whole family and any chances of a happy childhood to this war, why do you let people tell you that you have to sacrifice yourself too?"

Shocked at the brutal way in which Cassandra had exposed her ideas, Harry realized that he had never looked at the facts from that perspective. She made him suddenly realize that he had already sacrificed too much for a war in which he wanted no part, and that defeating Voldemort wasn't _his_ job: he had already stopped him for 13 years, and confronted him four times! Why should he be the one who had to kill him? He wasn't even a Muggleborn!

Lost in his musing, Harry was startled when he felt warm arms embrace him, but he soon melted into the hug.

"Please don't ever think that killing the Dark Lord is your job again Harry. You already did way more than you should have. Let the adults take care of it now. It's none of your business if the Ministry insists in its denial. They're all adults, they can take care of themselves, and it's their own choice if they want to spend their life in blissful ignorance. There's nothing more that you can do child, and nothing more that you _have_ to do."

Nodding against Cassandra's shoulder, Harry tried to keep his tears at bay, ashamed of them and feeling like a crybaby. So, he was astonished when they broke up their hug, and Cassy nonchalantly wiped her eyes with her sleeve, not looking the least bit ashamed of having cried in his hair. Smiling at the surprised teenager, Cassandra took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen, where Joshua was preparing dinner. Sitting down, she suddenly remembered:

"Oh yes! Before I forget: remind me that we'll have to go check a wand shop for you before the end of the summer. Now that you don't have the Horcrux, your magical signature may have altered, though it will certainly change again when you're turned. Also, you'll start seeing in the next couple of weeks that you have much more magic at your disposal. You see, a big portion of your magic was always working at keeping the Horcrux at bay, continuously depleting your reserves. To put it simply, you've just become more powerful," she explained with an impish smile.

Not knowing what to make of this new development, Harry examined his holly wand, unsure of his feelings and feeling anxious.

"And anyway, everyone should have a backup wand," Joshua said as everyone started eating, "the number of times I heard an Auror complaining that a crook managed to escaped after a lucky disarming charm! Serves the idiots right! You call yourself a professional and you don't even have a spare? Never mind wandless magic, those morons don't even know what it means!" and Joshua was off on one of his longwinded rants, insulting the way things were done in half the world in the meantime. Sharing a glance with Cassandra, Harry hid his smile behind his glass, eerily reminded of Moody's rants on the same topics, his mood immediately lifting: just like Joshua had intended.

* * *

The next morning after breakfast Joshua, Cassandra and Harry walked outside the Werewolf village's wards, and Cassy quickly created a Portkey. Seeing Harry's shocked look, the woman explained that she didn't believe in laws restricting magical travelling methods, and that they were only in effect in Europe and North America, whereas in the rest of the world everyone was free to create their own Portkeys and enchant their own magical carpets. She then offered to teach Harry how to do it and he agreed, though still a bit dubious. Feeling very nervous and remembering his last travel by Portkey, Harry gathered his courage and touched the Portkey, being whisked away with the other two. They landed in an alley in the outskirts of Madrid a couple of minutes later and, seeing Harry fall gracelessly on the ground, Joshua proceeded with giving a variety of tips on portkeying and flooing, which Harry wondered why no one had ever told him before. After a short walk the trio found themselves in front of Joshua's villa, where they were warmly welcomed by a house-elf called Binty.

Joshua disappeared immediately in his labs, and after a quick stop to the loo, Cassandra and Harry went back out and walked to the Spanish counterpart of Diagon Alley, Calle Madrileña, which Harry was surprised to note was not actually in central Madrid, but in the suburbs, very close to Joshua's house.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry and Cassy spent the rest of the day in Calle Madrileña shopping for clothes and generally whatever caught their fancy. Or rather, Cassandra bought everything Harry just looked at with interest, not even letting him use his own money, saying that he could pay her back when he had a well paid job. They asked Binty to take their bags back home whenever they got too cumbersome or too heavy, so they only realized the true extent of their purchases when they got back home and found all their bags in a heap in the sitting room. Harry was gobsmacked and would have believed it to be Christmas if not for the high temperature and lack of festive decorations. His impression was only furthered when after dinner Joshua and Harry sat on the sofa, with Cassy on the floor sorting through their purchases one by one, and Joshua beaming excitedly every time she got out something that was meant for him or that he particularly liked. Harry thought that it was one of the few times when he has seen him actually behave like a kid: even when playing Quidditch or football, Joshua was still a very serious person, and very rarely let go.

Cassandra finally unpacked Harry's personal favourite: a trunk with multiple compartments even better than the one Alastor Moody had. It was meant to be kept vertical and had a password for each of the four different compartments. It had a wardrobe with hangers and drawers, a rotating compartment which could hold up to 150 books, and two compartments full of shelves, one of which actually had a little cold cupboard, the wizard version of a fridge, that Harry immediately resolved to use for his secret chocolate stash, which was in serious danger of messy melting because of the high temperatures.

Harry finished hanging his new clothes and putting away his many new books, and then sat back down to chat quietly with Cassy and Joshua. Despite the late hour and being exhausted -who knew that shopping could be so draining?- Harry felt more content than he had in a long time.

* * *

The next day, Cassy and Harry portkeyed to Cassandra's private Unplottable little island in Croatia. Harry was astonished that she actually owned an entire island, but Cassandra just laughed and told him that for the Croatian Wizardfolk, islands were just like Manors in England: all the well-to-do families had one. She showed him a Muggle map of the country and then a Wizarding one, and Harry immediately noticed the huge number of islands which were missing from the Muggle one: and that wasn't even taking in consideration all the Unplottable locations like Cassy's island!

Cassandra then showed him quickly around: the island consisted of a comfortable house (with a sweet little house-elf called Fluffy –who's named reduced Harry to tears of laughter), a garden, an orchard and a jetty with a magical sailing boat. You could easily walk from one side of the island to the other in ten minutes! Harry immediately fell in love with the place, and the next week was spent swimming, sunbathing, sailing –to which Harry took an instant shine- and reading, debating or practising magic in the evenings. In Madrid, Cassandra had bought Harry tons of books on many different subjects and Harry discovered for the first time in his life the joys of reading: he had never liked it before, and only reluctantly did it for homework, but now he had Cassandra, to whom he could ask anything that he didn't understand, which usually evolved in longwinded discussions on one or another aspect of magic or the world in general. At first, Harry had been leery of reading some of the books which were clearly on Dark Magic, but when Cassandra noticed his reluctance, she gave him a stern talking to, especially after she found out that Harry didn't actually know _what _Dark magic was. She immediately called him a prejudiced idiot, and set about explaining that Dark magic differed from Light magic because it was a completely different type of magic, though they both had much of the same rules and casting methods. To put it simply, if magic was a muscle, Light magic would be a biceps, whereas Dark magic would be a quadriceps, and the more you cast one type of magic, the better you got at it and the easier it became to cast. The same could be said for Black magic, which was yet another type of magic. Harry had never heard of this type before, and Cassy patiently explained that especially in the UK, France and United States –the 'fanatically Light oriented' countries in Cassandra's opinion- Dark and Black magic were commonly thrown together and blanket banned, which was a very prejudiced and political decision, especially because all the best Healing spells were actually Dark magic. The three Unforgivables were also Dark Magic, and Cassandra argued that in many countries the Killing Curse was used to painlessly kill terminally ill patients and animals in slaughterhouses, whereas the Imperius Curse was used in hospitals on patients with mental problems or severe depression.

There were many other types of magic in the world, but the third most common one was Black Magic, and it could be divided in many branches, the biggest of which were: Mind Magics, most Blood Magics and Soul Magic (like Horcruxes for example). Black Magic was also very peculiar because the only two Black Creatures in the world were Dementors and Lethifolds, whereas there were dozens of creatures which use Light or Dark magic. Still, even Black Magic could be very useful, like shown by the Blood Wards on Privet Drive or Occlumency.

When Cassandra found out that Harry had no idea of what Occlumency was, she immediately started teaching him, and told him that most traditional families in the Wizarding world taught their children Occlumency at a very early age, even in countries like Britain where it was technically an illegal type of magic.

The rest of the week passed with Harry learning about new types of magic of which he had never even dreamed of, such as Parselmagic and Necromancy, both of which you could only use if you had the aptitude. Harry was very sad to note that he couldn't become a Necromancer, but immediately perked up when Cassandra told him of all the hilarious and dangerous situations in which her Necromancer ex-lover had gotten into when he started experimenting with his powers and still didn't know how to control them. After all, Harry wasn't really keen to be followed by an army of half decomposed zombies everywhere for a fortnight.

Harry also became very interested in subjects like the Oriental Animagus transformation and Magical Weapons and Metalsmithing. The Oriental Animagus transformation was different from its Western variation because there was the possibility of becoming a magical animal, whereas the traditional transformation only worked for non-magical animals. It was a very difficult and time-consuming process, and the actual probability of becoming a magical animal was very low: Cassandra and Joshua had both tried, and they had only become a lynx and a lemur respectively. Still, Harry had wanted to become an Animagus ever since third year, so he decided to dedicate himself to it during the next school year whenever he had a moment of time.

Magical Metalsmithing was in comparison quite easy: when Joshua joined them about a week after they had gotten to Croatia, he brought along some blacksmithing tools from Spain, which he had bought in a Goblin shop specialized in Blacksmithing. So, Harry and Cassandra had loads of fun experimenting together and started creating simple pieces of enchanted jewellery and amulets. Their masterpieces were a gold earring in the shape of a basilisk fang with engraved runes for protection and good fortune which could act as a minor shield charm created by Harry and a square pendant with a Thestral carved on it by Cassandra.

Sweaty and happy, the two of them went inside for a drink. Joshua was in the kitchen, and they both showed him their creations. While Joshua was piercing Harry's right ear, Cassandra sent Fluffy to get her a gold chain. When the little house-elf got back, she put the necklace and pendant around Harry's neck. At his confused face, Cassy smiled gently and said:

"I charmed the pendant into an emergency Portkey. Thestrals are my lucky animal, and I really hope it'll bring you luck too, especially seeing as you want to go back to Hogwarts," Joshua snorted in derision at the mention of Harry's school, but Cassandra only continued stroking his cheek, her eyes concerned and sad, "you just have to set a password, dear. I think in Parseltongue would be best. When you've done that, you just have to say the word and you'll be immediately transported to Greyback Camp. You've got to be careful though, because I'm not sure if it would work behind wards as strong as Hogwarts'."

"Wh-what? What did you say?" Harry spluttered, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Ehm… I said that if you activate the portkey inside Hogwarts it probably won't work becau-"

"No! Not that! D-did you say _Greyback _Camp?"

"Yes, it's where Fenrir lives. We're there most of the year anyways, and even if we're not, he knows how to get in contact with us in case of an emergency, so you don't have to worry about being a bother or something equally ridiculous."

"B-but Fenrir? As in _Fenrir Greyback_? The werewolf? _That _Greyback?" Harry stuttered in a small voice, his face ashen and his breathing ragged.

Joshua and Cassandra exchanged a worried glance, and Joshua gently told Harry:

"Yes Harry, Fenrir's surname is Greyback and he's the Alpha of the Greyback Pack, which consists of the majority of English werewolves. He's practically family to us."

"B-but why? I-I mean, Greyback's cruel, and vicious, a-and an assassin! He kills little children for fun! He's a horrible murderer!"

"Don't you dare!", startled by her yell, Harry finally noticed Cassandra's reaction to his words. She was staring at him with hard cold eyes, her canines seemed to have grown even longer and were jutting out of her lower lip and her fists were clenched. A thrill of fear ran down Harry's spine, and he realised that in that moment Cassandra scared him more than anyone he had ever met, even worse than Dementors or Voldemort. His instincts were screaming at him to run, that this woman –no, this _creature_- was a natural predator and meant to kill him, and he was only a scared little prey with absolutely no chance of survival.

"Cassandra! Control yourself!" Joshua snapped, stepping in between the two of them.

Joshua's sudden intervention startled Cassandra and broke the tension in the room. She quickly regained control of her body, closing her eyes and breathing deeply to rein in her anger. When he was sure that his adoptive mother wasn't going to go on a rampage, Joshua turned back to Harry:

"What the hell kid! You know perfectly well that the Light Side's propaganda and slander campaigns are exactly that: slander campaigns! Fenrir would never kill or hurt a child without good reason, and you know perfectly well that he can mostly control himself during the full moon! Did he look like someone who habitually goes on murdering rampages to you? You lived with him for what, a week? And has he ever tried to hurt you? Yeah, he isn't really the sweetest and most agreeable guy around, but actually hurt an abused kid and Potential Mother has brought back home? What the hell were you thinking? You weren't thinking, that's what!"

Feeling a lot calmer, Cassandra opened her eyes, and immediately noticed a distraught Harry, pale and shaking and with tears in his eyes. Sighing softly, she let her mothering instincts take over, and immediately enveloped the teen in a hug. Harry melted in her embrace and couldn't stop the sobs from escaping, the adrenaline leaving him shaking and wrecked, and a litany of 'sorry, sorry' escaping through the sobs. Joshua sighed morosely and snuggled between them, squishing himself in the hug, as Cassandra gently stroked Harry's hair. When the worst had passed, she murmured to Harry:

"I'm so sorry, dear. I never should have gotten so angry with you for such a stupid reason. You've been spoon-fed Light propaganda all your life, and I really should have remembered that Fenrir is not well seen in British society. I forgot, and anyway I hadn't realized that you hadn't connected Fenrir with the name Greyback. I can't believe we never said his name once in all this time! I am so sorry for getting angry with you, little love. It's just that I sometimes still see Fenrir as the scrawny suicidal fifteen year old he was when we first met, and when somebody talks badly about him, all my mothering instincts go haywire and my bloodlust comes out to play."

Harry nodded feebly, and after a few moments asked: "Suicidal? Wh-what do you mean? Fenrir looks so strong and-and… _durable!_"

Joshua and Cassandra both chuckled, and Cassy explained: "Fenrir's father died when he was really young, and he was brought up by his mother. She was only a witch, and rearing a young Natural-born Werewolf was really harsh on her. They never had much money, but they got by, and Fenrir was even able to attend a Muggle school. They lived in the woods, in the house in which we live in now, you know?"

The three of them had in the meantime moved to sit on the sofa, all cuddled together, and Harry nodded to Cassy to continue, fascinated by the true story of one of the people who was considered in Britain to be almost as cruel and vicious as Voldemort himself.

"Well, unfortunately his mother died of Dragon Pox when he was fourteen, and Fenrir decided to leave the UK. He didn't have anything left for him there, and he was grieving. I met him almost a year later in Northern France. He wasn't in a very good condition: half starved and badly beaten and so intoxicated that he could barely stand. So, I bit him, and-"

"What? You bit him?"

"Yes, of course. Didn't you know that Bloodsinger venom has healing properties on Werewolves?"

"Oh, yeah… I forgot," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"Yeah, well it does. And it actually gave him an even longer lifespan than the average Natural-born I think… interesting side effect isn't it? Anyway, we travelled the world for some five years, when I found Joshua and turned him. Afterwards, Fenrir stayed with us for about another year, and then he went back to the UK. There he restored his old childhood home and started the Greyback Pack. It didn't take him long to become the most powerful and respected Alpha in the country."

"Wait… you met him even before Joshua? How old _is _he? He looks like he's in his late twenties at the most!"

"Oh he's 60. And well, Natural-borns live about three centuries normally… I mean, the average lifespan for a mediocre wizard is of two centuries, so it's not really that much of a stretch. Though usually normal Werewolves rarely get to a century and a half, because the transformation really takes a toll on their bodies."

Harry gaped: wizards normally lived two centuries? Why hadn't anyone ever told him things like that! He cursed Hogwarts and its faulty curriculum and morosely thought that Joshua might be really influencing him and transferring some of his Hogwarts-hate to him. Shaking his head in confusion, Harry focused back on the matter at hand:

"But why do people say that he killed little children? Ron told me that when he was little his mother told him and his brothers horror stories about Greyback every time that one of them misbehaved. And he is the one who bit Remus! He was just a child!"

Joshua and Cassandra shared a dark look, and Joshua answered Harry's question:

"This Remus guy, he was probably just collateral damage," Harry spluttered indignantly, but Joshua held up a hand to stop his protests, "he was. Every time that someone tries to reintroduce discriminating legislation against Werewolves, Fenrir went beneath their house during the full moon, and did his best to turn as many people as possible. Remus was probably the kid of some Wizengamot member who was pushing for more prosecution against Werewolves. When was he turned? Do you know the year?"

"Uhm… about 30 years ago? Wait, no, maybe a couple years less… I'm not really sure."

"Yeah, that'd be about the right time. Some Light pureblood idiots were pushing for very heavy measures to be taken. If those laws had passed, it would have been practically legal to kill Werewolves on sight. And I'm not talking about the full moon."

Harry was horrified: the Light side actually promoted this kind of ideas? No wonder the Werewolves sided with Voldemort! Shaking his head to clear it, Harry muttered:

"But didn't those attacks actually prove that Werewolves were dangerous? Wasn't there a better way?"

Joshua snorted bitterly, "No, there wasn't. The Wizengamot is the only body which can change laws in the UK, and it's seats are elective. Why do you think wizarding Britain is so far back in comparison to other countries? Getting a majority is very difficult, and it denotes huge political clout. I'm pretty certain that Dumbledore was the first one in centuries who consistently had the majority of votes. And all his reforms have been strictly Light oriented and didn't do much, if anything at all, for the advancement of wizarding Britain."

"So, Greyback bit Wizengamot members or their family to make sure that no harsher laws against Werewolves were passed? That's actually pretty clever… ruthless, but clever."

"Of course it is!", Cassandra chuckled, "It was my idea!"

Harry gaped, "Wh-what?"

"Fenrir was becoming a nervous wreck, obviously. He had a whole pack to keep safe, and some idiot makes killing his family on sight legal? Anybody would go crazy! So, I came up with this wonderful plan, and the next full moon we went underneath the house of the leader of this farce, Fenrir bit him and half his family, and then I apparated him to the next house, and so on. I think we were able to cover some five houses that first night. Very satisfying. You see, idiots like those are one of the main reasons this Voldemort chap everyone despises became what he is. I mean, from what Joshua found out, the kid lived in an orphanage, and had no idea who his parents were. Can you imagine being a Muggleborn at Hogwarts in the Fourties? It must have been a nightmare! He was a genius though, so he soon became very well respected. And yet, when the kid tries to make some changes, there's absolutely nothing he can do! Can you really blame him for starting a revolution? True, he's completely off his rocker now, probably because of excessive use of Soul Magic and badly made Blood Rituals, but his initial idea was quite good actually. The man is stubborn, that's for sure. If it had been me, I'd have just let them dig their own graves and moved to Australia or somewhere equally distant and peaceful."

Shocked, Harry realised that he had never even actually considered _why _Voldemort had started his terror campaign. He had always thought that the madman's objective was to kill off all Muggles and Muggleborns, and rule the world. But was that actually the truth? All his knowledge of Voldemort was based on hearsay from the Light side, so how much of it was truth and how much was bias? And how much did Voldemort's insanity affect his views and subsequently his actions?

Going back to bed half an hour later, Harry was still contemplating this. That night he spent many hours awake in bed thinking, as his view of the world had been completely turned on its head yet again.

* * *

The next week passed just like the two before, with the highlight being that Hedwig and Pig arrived with letters from Harry's friends. Ron and Hermione dropped vague hints on something happening, that they were somewhere together and they would come get him 'soon'. The fact that they couldn't tell him anything because 'Dumbledore said so' just grated on Harry's nerves even more. Sirius was a bit more supportive, even though he didn't actually tell him anything useful either. When Harry passed his letters to Joshua and Cassy, who had been looking at him curiously, he was almost pleased to note Joshua's eyes narrowing in a glare and Cassandra's mouth thinning in anger. Sharing a dark look, the two took and almost simultaneous deep breath and carefully blanked their faces again. Harry was actually darkly amused by this display, and he spent a quick thought to the fact that in three weeks his sense of humour had changed so much that he was now actually entertained by someone's indignation. All his humour vanished though with Cassandra's seemingly casual remark:

"It's strange, isn't it, that you haven't been in Private Drive for what, three weeks? And no one has yet noticed anything amiss. Weird, especially considering that the morons had a person monitoring the place 24/7. I wonder how much it takes them to notice Harry's absence?"

And Joshua and Cassandra started laying bets on the date, and actually managed to convince Harry to place a bet too. In the end, it was Joshua who won the wager two days later, on the 31st of July.


	5. Chapter 5

The 31st of July was Harry's fifteenth birthday. The day was rapidly forming into the best birthday Harry had ever had, but unfortunately it didn't last long. The morning had started beautifully, just like every one in the last three weeks. Harry had calmly woken up around 9 and taken a shower. He then downed his first nutritional potion of the day, and proceeded to lather his whole body with the special cream Joshua had made for him: it was intended to help remove or minimize scars and make his skin healthier. The first time he had put it on he had felt like a girl or vain git like Malfoy, but he had kept doing it, if only for the fact that Joshua had actually taken time to brew for him, and now he was really glad he had: all his scars had practically disappeared! Even the one on his forehead, you had to really squint to see it.

Naked in front of the mirror, Harry looked himself over: he had never liked his body much, but now the only thing he could think was 'Merlin, I'm hot'. He had gained quite a few centimetres of height, and was now finally average. True, he would never be tall, but at least he didn't look like a gnome now. Anyway, he was sure that in the next month he would shoot up some more.

Also, he had finally gained some muscle thanks to the regular healthy meals (grease free, unlike most Hogwarts foods) and the nutritional potions. He was sporting a uniform tan on his whole body (thanks magic! Harry was really way too shy to go skinny-dipping, especially with Cassandra around) and the fang earring hanging from his right ear and golden necklace where discreet and yet very cool, if Harry said so himself. His now tamed hair added to the ensemble, and Harry couldn't wait for his glasses to go. Wearing some light comfortable clothes, the teenager bounced downstairs, where Cassy and Joshua were waiting for him, with his presents already laid out on the table. He started opening them eagerly: Joshua had given him books on Potions, Wizarding Etiquette and Traditions and obviously Herbology, 'cause Joshua was a plant fanatic, and when Harry had told him that he had taken care of his Aunt's garden the little kid had been over the moon and pestered him into telling every little detail and given him loads of useful advice. Harry still didn't like Herbology all that much, but reading the titles, he had to concede that they would make interesting reads: _Fifty Strangest Plants of the World _for example had wonderful illustrations, and seemed quite entertaining. Who knew that there existed a plant which lured humans in with a wonderful tempting perfume and then proceeded to gobble them down?

Joshua had also gifted Harry with a wood carving kit, which had him beaming with happiness: Cassy and Harry hadn't had all that much time for Metalsmithing, what with the sweltering heat during the last week, for which Cooling Charms didn't really do much, and Harry had been sad to think that he wouldn't be able to bring his tools back at Hogwarts, but now he could carve wood, which was much more practical! True, it wasn't really the same, but at least he would have something to keep his hands occupied.

Cassandra gifted Harry with books on a variety of subjects too, the best ones being one explaining the Oriental Animagus transformation clearly step by step, and the other one being _Fifty Most Renown Magical Weapons of the World_, by the same publishing company of the book on strange plants. Still, all the other presents paled in comparison to what was waiting outside for Harry: Cassandra had gifted him his own personal Magical Sailing Boat! It was very little and seated only one person, but it was way faster than Cassandra's much bigger boat, and Harry was able to pull some amazing stunts with it, practically flying over the water. He spent the whole morning playing with his new boat, and at lunch he couldn't stop chatting about all the awesome things he could do with it. After lunch, Harry was about to go read one of his new books quietly on the hammock when Hedwig and another owl landed on the table. Everyone sat back down, and Harry opened his letters and presents, after having petted Hedwig and congratulated her repeatedly on flying so far away from home so soon after her last journey.

Joshua and Cassandra quietly watched the teen reading his letters and opening the presents, both watching the play of emotions on his face carefully. His brow furrowed when he read the letters, the slight smile hovering on his face from seeing Hedwig again quickly disappearing. When he opened his presents, instead of the flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes which had characterized his whole morning, an even deeper frown found its way on his face, his eyes narrowing in bitter disappointment. Starting to get angry, Joshua leaned closer, trying to see what kind of crass present Harry's friends had delivered, to make all of the boy's previous delight disappear completely in the space of minutes. In fact, the boy had his head bent over the parcels, his arm covering them from view, and he looked to be restraining tears. When Joshua finally managed to coax Harry away from the boxes a few minutes later and get a look, his frayed temper completely exploded:

"Chocolate! Those two morons sent you _chocolate_! In the middle of bloody July! It's already completely melted! Didn't even put preservation charms on it! And what kind of best friend gives you fucking chocolate for your fifteenth birthday?! That's so bloody impersonal and unfeeling! Callous! And it's not even high quality! Honeydukes! These things cost a dime a dozen! I could have bought you the whole fucking store and it wouldn't have even put a dent in my funds!"

Panting harshly the seven-year-old watched helplessly as Cassandra gently rocked Harry, who was crying bitter tears on her shoulder. Joshua had known that things between Harry and his so-called best friends weren't going well -he had read the letters two days ago after all- but this was ridiculous! They sent him both the exact same impersonal gift, and had the guts to write 'Happy Birthday, Harry. Can't say much, but we'll see you soon. Love, Hermione and Ron.' And that was it? Not even taking the time to write a note each, and whoever heard of birthday cards? Colourful ink, little drawings and smiley faces? Nothing. And then the world expected little Harry to save them all from big, bad Voldemort, when not even his best friends could get him a decent present and birthday card? Please. If Joshua had his way, nobody would ever dare touch one hair on Harry's head ever again. And that was a promise.

* * *

At dinner Harry was still bitter about his friends' complete lack of interest. He couldn't believe that he had been friends with them for four years, and the most they did was drop tantalizing hints in their letters once every few weeks and send him some bloody chocolate. They didn't even ask him if he was alright! And they _knew _that his life at the Dursley's was horrible!

Unfortunately, Harry's frayed temper completely exploded during dinner, when a troop of owls flew through the window, bringing Howlers and desperate notes which demanded that he immediately get back home, and how dare he leave Privet Drive and his poor Aunt and Uncle?

Harry managed to keep his temper enough to write one short note to Sirius telling him that he was perfectly safe and happy, and then proceeded to burn all the other letters and started pacing in the living room.

Half an hour later Cassandra walked inside, saw the state Harry was in, and dragged him to his room. There she made him change in his best skimpy clothing and, after a quick word with Joshua who was brewing and only nodded distractedly, lead him to her sailing boat. Less than an hour later they arrived to another island, which Harry recognized as the most popular island in Wizarding Croatia. They docked their boat, aided by the lamplight, and when Cassandra noticed Harry's confused frown, she grinned impishly and said:

"Tonight I'll introduce you to the pleasures of clubbing! Consider it another birthday present!", and chuckling gleefully at Harry's gobsmacked expression, she grabbed his hand and pulled into the throng of dancing and laughing people.

* * *

Harry was lost. Well, actually he sort of knew where he was and where his boat was, but he had lost sight of Cassandra hours ago, and had no idea of what club he was currently in. There were about ten one after the other surrounding the main street and they were all packed. He had never seen so many people all together in the same place, but Cassy had told him that this was the 'in' place to be for young witches and wizards from all around the world, sort of like muggle Ibiza. Thankfully, all the bartenders spoke English and Harry had been able to get a few drinks. He wasn't exactly sober, though not really drunk, but still inebriated enough that when he almost crashed into Marcus Flint, he couldn't do anything but stare. _Marcus Flint_? Clubbing? Here? For some reason his muddled brain just couldn't process this fact, and he just stood there gaping stupidly. Luckily, Flint didn't even notice, but unfortunately the guy standing next to him did, and for some strange reason thought that Harry had been staring at him. Emboldened by the blatant display of interest, he approached the black haired beauty.

"Hey, pretty. Dance with me?" and without waiting for an answer grabbed Harry and pulled him to the dance floor. Harry was completely shocked, not even having seen the man approach, and didn't even have time to protest. The next thing he knew, he was encircled by strong arms, hot breath tickling his ear: "What's your name beautiful? I'm Jean."

"H-harry." He stuttered, distracted by the man's hard body grinding into his, and his nose nuzzling his ear and neck. Somebody chose that moment to bump into Harry, upsetting his balance and making him grab Jean's biceps tightly. Jean turned his face slightly to look at Harry, whose inebriated brain had only the time to think 'Oh. He's handsome,' before he was being kissed, the man's hands splayed on his back and arse to keep him steady. Harry was startled: the feel of the man's lips and then tongue ravaging his mouth and the evidence of his arousal pressing in his stomach were the hottest thing Harry had ever felt. Adrenaline began pumping in his veins, clearing his brain from the alcohol, and he finally started responding enthusiastically to the kiss, grinding against Jean and trying to get even closer to him, finally managing it by wrapping his legs around his waist. He was distracted for a moment when he felt a wall against his back, and opened his eyes to see what had happened: Jean had carried him away from the dance floor and to a partially secluded alcove, covered in shadows and which couldn't be seen well from the outside.

All his thought processes were interrupted though when Jean slipped a hand in his pants, grabbing his cock. Harry let out a moan and arched his head back, baring his throat to Jean who proceeded to litter it with love bites, while still stoking the cock in his hand. When Harry got over the initial shock he fumbled for Jean's trousers, and clumsily inserted a hand inside. Not really knowing what to do, Harry at first simply explored the man's organ, marvelling at the texture and girth. He quickly decided to grab the cock more firmly and try to do the same things he did while masturbating. It was the right choice, because Jean's languid strokes on his cock became rougher and faster, and they were soon both panting with exertion and occasionally kissing and nipping at each other's jaw and neck. Jean suddenly twisted his hand just so, and Harry came almost without warning, with a drawn out erotic moan that had Jean following soon after.

The two of them stayed leaning against the wall a few minutes more, before casting a couple Cleaning Charms and rearranging their clothes. Jean leaned in for one last languid kiss and asked Harry his owl address, when Cassandra suddenly reappeared, a satisfied smile on her face. Seeing Harry with another man, she raised an eyebrow and shot him an impish smile, making him blush tomato red. Laughing, she grabbed his hand, waved at Jean, and dragged him outside.

They sailed back to Cassandra's island in companionable silence, both with goofy smiles on their faces and with their thoughts elsewhere. When they arrived back home, they were greeted by a pyjama-clad Joshua who was getting a glass of water in the kitchen. The seven-year-old took one look at Cassy and stated:

"You got laid," and after a quick look at Harry he added, "both of you."

Muttering under his breath about hormones and sexual diseases, the child left the other two standing embarrassedly in the kitchen, red as tomatoes. A quick glance at each other and they both started laughing at the absurdness of the situation.

Later that night laying in bed, Harry decided that even considering the miserable presents and letters from England, it was still the best birthday he had ever had: and he was pretty sure that next year would be even better.


	6. Chapter 6

Four days later, on Friday, Harry and Cassandra went clubbing again. Harry hadn't found Jean again, but he had kissed and danced with another handsome guy for a few hours, so he considered the night a success. On Sunday, Harry, Cassy and Joshua packed their things and took a Portkey back to Greyback Camp. They used Harry's Thestral pendant to make sure it worked, and after a minor adjustment Cassandra was happy to consider it perfectly functional. The next day Harry spent it playing football with the young Werewolves of the pack, and even managed to convince Joshua to participate a few times too. When they were heading back to the house, Harry stopped a moment on the front steps. He craned his neck and looked the quaint little cottage over with a thoughtful expression. Suddenly he grinned, turned to Joshua who was watching him curiously and stated: "Home."

Beaming, Joshua grabbed his arm and dragged him inside, wrinkling his nose in distaste at Harry's sweaty clothes and shooing him to the shower. Neither of them knew that that simple word uttered by Harry was the final straw for the Blood Wards on Privet Drive. Already severely weakened by the abuse Harry had suffered in that house and by the purification ritual Cassy had used to rid Harry from the Horcrux, the last threads which had connected Harry with Little Whinging were severed when he formally acknowledged another house as his home.

At that same moment, deep in the Scottish mountains, many delicate silver instruments in the Hogwarts Headmaster's office screeched in distress, before going completely silent. Eyes bugging out of his head, Albus Dumbledore shakily stood up and approached the desk on which the instruments were laid. He stretched a quivering hand towards them, as though he couldn't believe his eyes and ears. Only after a couple of minutes of shocked horror, the most respected man in Wizarding Britain recovered from his surprise enough to upturn the desk in an uncharacteristic display of temper. Breathing deeply to calm himself, he decided to send another disappointed letter to the wayward Potter child, and to step up the search, which had yet to produce any results after a whole week.

* * *

The next few days passed quickly, and Harry felt happy and carefree. He hanged out with the kids his age, and whenever he wanted a moment alone he smithed small pieces of jewellery, studied subjects which weren't included in the Hogwarts curriculum or revised the classes in which he wasn't very good. Joshua helped him loads with Herbology and Potions, giving him tips and explaining things much more clearly than Snape did. Harry discovered that Cassandra was also a certified Healer aside from being a Ritual Master, but she had taken the course only out of boredom more than 20 years before, so she was out of practice. Still, she taught him some basic healing spells for little scrapes and bruises, and she also knew many random bits of knowledge that were more or less useful, so Harry never got bored when studying with her.

Fenrir instead wasn't home much, having many duties to keep up between the Pack and being a Death Eater, and the few times that he came back home for dinner he was constantly in a bad mood and harped about Voldemort being obsessed about 'some kind of Divination shit', and that being a Death Eater was becoming more hazardous and less rewarding every day.

* * *

Exactly a week after their return to the UK, Harry, his Firebolt slung over his shoulder, was heading to the Quidditch pitch with the other Werewolf teens. One of them, Derek, had developed a huge crush on Harry, and was always flirting with him and saying lewd comments. After a particularly crude joke one of the other boys pushed him playfully, causing him to stagger sideways, and fall to the ground on top of another man who was passing by in that exact moment. Groaning in distress, Derek pulled himself to his feet, and turned around to apologise. Harry though had been closer, and had extended a hand to the fallen man, who grabbed it after a moment. Their eyes met when the man was halfway standing, and Harry almost let go and made him fall again: it was Remus! What was he doing here?

Sensing the boy's flinch and rising panic, Remus looked at his helper more closely. It took him a moment, but he finally connected the dots thanks to Harry's characteristic glasses. His eyes widened in recognition and is eyes swept him over: he was completely different! His skin and body radiated health and he didn't look like the spitting image of James Potter anymore, but was actually the perfect mesh of both his mother and father's features.

Getting over the worse of his shock, he realised that Harry was panicking, and was desperately trying to get his hand out of Remus' steely grip. Realization hit him like a train, making the first hint of panic leek into Remus' countenance too: what was Harry doing in Greyback Camp? Was he insane? He would be killed on sight or delivered to Voldemort the second someone recognized him! Coming to a split second decision, Remus decided to completely abandon his diplomatic mission with the Werewolves, and dedicate himself completely to Harry's safety instead. He started dragging Harry away with him, fully intending to get to the edge of the wards and apparating him immediately to Grimmauld Place.

A distressed whimper left Harry's throat when Remus started dragging him away, catching the attention of all the other boys, who were only a few meters ahead. Seeing Harry's anguish, Derek immediately ran back, managing to tackle Remus to the ground. A scuffle ensued and punches started flying, Remus trying to pull Harry away, and Derek and all the others trying to pry them apart without hurting Harry, his Firebolt getting in the way, and Harry's panic not making things easier either.

A menacing growl suddenly reverberated across the field, and everyone stilled in fear. A majestic dark brown almost black wolf, the same colour as Fenrir's hair, came loping towards the brawl, his teeth bared menacingly. When closer, the wolf changed back, and Harry had never been happier to see Fenrir than in that exact moment. The Alpha took in the scene for a moment, noticing Harry's trembling and the protective stances all the boys had. His eyes narrowing in anger at Lupin, he forcefully pried Harry from his grasp, silencing his protests with a look. A quick gesture had his Beta restraining the traitorous werewolf, and Fenrir picked Harry up bridal style, broom and all, and proceeded to carry him back home without even a backward glance. Thankfully, when he got there, he found Cassandra in the kitchen, who immediately put on a cup of tea and enveloped the boy in a hug. A quick shrug to communicate his lack of knowledge, and he was back outside, heading back to his Beta and the teens, wondering what idiocy Lupin had tried to commit this time.

* * *

Cassandra meanwhile was dealing with a sobbing Harry: only after half an hour of soothing and assurances that Harry wasn't going to be abandoned and that he would never have to go back living with his muggle family against his wishes, she finally managed to get the story out of him. The sudden appearance an enemy (because anyone who tried to steal little Harry away from her was considered a hostile party) right in the middle of Greyback Camp, a place she had thought completely safe and protected from the outside world, shook Cassandra even more than it did Harry. After all, Harry was used to being put in danger in places he considered his home, like Hogwarts and Privet Drive, whereas Cassandra considered her house an impenetrable fortress out of harm's way.

After having calmed down a bit, Harry immediately started to feel self-conscious: he hadn't cried since the age of seven, except for extreme injuries when a few tears of pain leaked out, and yet this summer he had broken down so many times that he had actually lost count! His attempts to apologizes to Cassandra where immediately rebuked:

"I don't consider you a crybaby, Harry. Crying is perfectly normal, and you have unfortunately had many reasons to do it in the last few months. Also, the pent up stress from the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's resurrection are big factors in the fact that you are feeling unstable, but I personally think that the biggest reasons of your uncharacteristic bouts of crying are probably the sudden release of the two Compulsions -because all your emotions are now probably much more raw and intense- and the fact that you finally have someone who cares and looks after you. Isn't that true? You knew that I was here, and so you let yourself go and didn't bottle all the hurt up. Which, by the way, isn't a healthy method of dealing with problems at all."

Thinking it over, Harry realised that she was probably right, and felt immediately better. A few minutes later Cassy told him that she had to go to an appointment with his solicitor and asked him if he wanted to join her, but Harry had had enough drama for the day and refused, preferring to relax in the sitting room, reading the chapter on Gryffindor's sword in his new book on magical weapons.

Joshua found him still reading hours later, and moved to sit beside him on the sofa. He had just settled and was about to tell Harry that it was late and he should probably start cooking supper, when he noticed his wrist: it was completely purple!

Gasping, he gently grabbed Harry's hand, and bombarded him with questions. Harry told him about Remus' discovery and almost successful kidnapping, and finished the tale saying that he hadn't even noticed the bruise.

"You what! Harry you have gotten to take better care of yourself! Here, I'll go get a cream for bruises, there should still be some in the bathroom. Otherwise, it'll only take me minutes to brew some up anyway."

"But it's only a bruise…" Harry protested weakly, but his only answer was a disapproving glare. When Joshua got back, he started fussing on Harry's wrist, and the teen watched him silently for a while, before asking him something that had been bothering him for a while:

"Joshua?"

The child hummed to show he was listening, completely concentrated on spreading the cream evenly on Harry's bruise.

"Why were you at the Triwizard Tournament?"

Seeing Joshua's perplexed expression, Harry hastily explained: "I mean, I remember seeing you in the stands before the start of the Maze. I'm sure it was you because I remember your eyes, and I almost didn't hear the whistle because I was so engrossed by you."

"Oh, so you were really looking at me! At the time we were worried you had recognized Fenrir somehow. Anyway, I was there because it was one of the greatest events in Europe in decades! The Triwizard Tournament reinstated after hundreds of years and with four participants! It was a unique event! And the news of Voldemort's second rise made it even more noteworthy!", the little child answered excitedly, "I'd have regretted it for years if I hadn't gone! I dragged Fenrir along because Cassandra was following her latest flight of fancy somewhere in South Africa, and the idiots who organized the Tournament only let kids in with _adult supervision_," he spat the words like a curse, and Harry had to hold back his giggles, "anyway, it was a good thing I did, because I felt the Pull from a Potential, but there were too many people present and I couldn't find you. So, the next day I called Mother back and we started methodically searching all of Wizarding Britain. If that didn't work then we would have gone through all the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, a hugely time consuming endeavour. Thankfully, we found you almost by chance: Mother was doing a casual search through the Muggle world in case you were a Muggleborn, when she noticed a huge concentration of Black Magic in Little Whinging caused by the Blood Wards."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, before realising: "Wait, Fenrir was in the audience at the Third Task? But isn't he a Death Eater? Did he get summoned? I don't remember him being in the graveyard, but then Voldemort didn't call everyone by name."

"Merlin, no! Fenrir isn't a marked Death Eater! As if Mother would let him get branded! She'd go on a rampage and probably disown him or something! No, Fenrir has only an alliance with the bloke, and none of his Pack are marked."

"You can have an alliance with Voldemort? I didn't know that…"

"Yeah, Voldemort's allies are a big part of his forces, though he prefers using his Death Eaters. Just think of the Dementors: they aren't Marked –obviously- and he won't use them until the time is right. The Ministry is really made up of a bunch of morons: the Dementors were Voldemort's most loyal allies, and they make them guard the only magical prison in the UK? The sheer incompetence of bureaucrats is astounding!"

Laughing bitterly, Harry started preparing dinner while continuing to chat with Joshua, and tried to forget his horrible encounter with Remus.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day Harry was shocked and touched by the level of concern his Werewolf friends displayed in his regards. Yes, Harry had been fussed over by Molly Weasley before, but this was completely different: his friends didn't try to crowd him, or strangle him with an awkward Hermione-hug, but displayed their worry with little gestures. When they were playing football, they were even more considerate than usual –though they always were, because Harry was the only human on the team, and couldn't compete with a Werewolf's strength and reflexes: he couldn't wait till to be turned!- and Fenrir actually kept a close eye on the teens throughout the day from afar. Harry noticed him lurking though, and jogged over to where he was standing. A very awkward pause ensued, and the two just spent a minute staring at each other suspiciously. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and said:

"Erm… Thank you. For, you know, saving me yesterday. I mean, Remus is one of your pack, and I'm…"

Fenrir snorted bitterly, "He's not Pack. That coward was here only to _negotiate our alliance with Dumbledore,_" he mocked, "he's a loose cannon, that one. Always making trouble and trying to sway Werewolves towards the 'greater good'. Won't even listen to me when I tell him that Dumbledore actually passed some legislation _against_ Werewolves, and won't ever do anything good for our species."

"Really? I didn't know that… what kind of laws are they?"

"Registration. Every Werewolf had to give their name to the Ministry, or they would be heavily fined and put in Azkaban for up to a year. Thankfully, my association with the Dark Lord proved useful for once, and I had Lucius Malfoy retract them. It pays off to have influential friends."

"You're friends with Malfoy?" Harry asked, flabbergasted.

"More like mutually beneficial acquaintances. He helps me with his political clout, and I help him by scaring anyone who bothers him half to death."

Harry nodded absently, and another awkward silence ensued. Finally, Harry managed to say what he had come over to talk about in the first place:

"Uhm… Fenrir? What did you do to Remus?"

Fenrir fixed him with a glare, and spat:

"What? Do you really think I killed him?" seeing Harry floundering for an answer, he continued, "I'm not a savage nor a madman, you know. I don't usually go around killing whoever bothers me! I simply kicked him out and Obliviated the coordinates of the Camp from his mind. Anyway, even if he manages to find this place again, the wards would rip him to pieces if he tried entering without permission," and he stalked away, leaving Harry there fuming at him. It wasn't _his _fault that Greyback had a horrible reputation! He wasn't the one who attacked and turned entire families! He wasn't the one with anger management problems and so much witty sarcasm that he put Snape to shame! He was only worried about Remus! Those Compulsions had left lasting damage on him, dammit, and now this 'people saving thing' he had just refused to go away completely! Seething, he stalked back home with only an absent wave at the other teens who were still playing football, and went looking for Cassandra, thinking about getting her to teach him some advanced magic to relieve some stress.

* * *

The next weeks passed peacefully and happily, with the difference that now Harry answered Fenrir's sarcastic barbs with equally witty responses, driving each other up the wall. Cassy and Joshua simply sat back and enjoyed the show, making bets and recording the most humorous or cutting phrases. Aside from that, Harry, Cassy and Joshua visited Godric's Hollow, and Harry saw his parent's grave for the first time. When he saw the inscription on the tomb, he asked who had it commissioned, and when he was told that it had been in fact Dumbledore who had written such a nonsensical thing and sullied their grave, Harry commissioned a bigger sepulchre for his parents, which he hoped would become his resting place too when the time came. Afterwards, they went to see Harry's house: Cassandra erected some sturdy wards to keep busybodies and anyone who didn't have permission out, and they cleared away all the useless junk that tourists had left, especially all the well-wishers' graffiti saying things along the lines of: 'Thank you Harry for saving us all. Can't wait for you to defeat the next Dark Lord or horrible monster for us!'

Cassy even managed to make the property Unplottable and connected Harry to the wards with a nifty piece of Blood Magic. And ta-dah! Harry had his own private retreat, which could be accessed only by the three of them, where he could run to if things ever got too much.

* * *

Finally, the long awaited 29th of August arrived: Harry had been taking nutritional potions and Joshua's special cream against scarring for more than two months, and 'Healer Cassandra' and 'Joshua the Sadist' had decided a few weeks before that on that day Harry was going to be healthy enough to be turned. After all, if he had been turned immediately after Cassy found him, fighting the damage the Dursley's abuse had inflicted on his body would have been much harder, because Bloodsingers were much more resilient, making their bodies change much more slowly.

So, the morning of the 29th of August, everyone gathered in the kitchen after breakfast to see Harry's turning.

"Were do you want the bite?"

"Erm… does it make a difference?"

Everyone chuckled, and Cassandra gently explained: "No, it doesn't. It will heal over in the space of the next 24 hours and it won't scar."

"Oh, well. Wherever you want then."

"Alright then, let's do things traditionally: bite on the neck!"

And Harry watched nervously as Cassy elongated her fangs and tilted his head for better access. Harry moaned in pain, but she quickly finished injecting the venom and licked the wound clean.

"You didn't tell me it hurt!", Harry glared at her when she stood up straight again and everyone chuckled at Harry's pouting expression.

Harry spent the morning finishing his Transfiguration homework, and after lunch went outside to hang out with Derek and the other teens. He watched them play football, and was surprised when halfway through the game he had to take his glasses off because he didn't see well with them anymore. Derek obviously used this as another opportunity to flirt with Harry, and gushed about how 'cute and pretty' he looked without glasses, which resulted in Harry tackling him to the ground and tickling him mercilessly until he gave up and promised to never call him cute again.

When Harry got back home, he was extremely weary and fatigued, even though he hadn't done much the whole day, and fell asleep on the sofa while waiting for dinner. When Cassandra came to tell him supper was ready, she didn't have the heart to wake him up because he looked so peaceful, so she took a photo of him instead and had Fenrir carry him upstairs.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke up late and completely refreshed. He remembered immediately that his turning was probably complete, and rushed to the mirror. He was finally a Bloodsinger! And he was amazed: his body looked even fitter and healthier than the day before, he had fangs that he could lengthen or shorten at will and his green eyes had a mesmerizing, almost unearthly quality to them. They were much darker than Joshua's pale green, but there was still something very similar about them: was it any wonder that Harry had thought at first that Joshua was Cassandra's biological son? What with the eyes and hair, they passed as family quite easily. Still, other than the fact that Harry could now see perfectly and could move a little faster and had better reflexes, he felt the same as the day before, and didn't look_ that_ much different. After all, you could pass off the differences in his eyes with the fact that he wasn't wearing glasses anymore, and his fangs only looked like pointy teeth if he kept them under control.

He sprinted downstairs, where Cassy and Joshua gushed over him, and even Fenrir managed a word of congratulations. Preening happily, Harry rushed through breakfast, making everyone chuckle at his enthusiasm. Cassandra and him then walked towards the edge of the wards, stopping a moment where the Werewolf teens where hanging out, and they all rushed to hug and congratulate Harry, and then they were outside the Camp. Harry immediately created a Portkey to Spain, supervised closely by Cassandra, and when they landed the same alley they had landed in when they came to Madrid in July, she moved to hug Harry, saying how proud she was of him making his first international illegal Portkey, which made Harry blush bright red. They passed at Joshua's house to tell Binty the house-elf that they were in Spain till the next day, and then they headed straight to Calle Madrileña.

The first stop was the wand shop, which Cassy much preferred to Ollivander's because they didn't put the Trace on the wands and because they used a much wider range of materials and had different types of merchandise. In fact, the blond woman bought herself a staff for Warding Rituals to make Godric's Hollow and their other various residences more secure, and Harry was sorely tempted to buy himself an athame, till he remembered that they were forbidden in Hogwarts. Huffing crossly, he finally went to try wands. This time, unlike when he was eleven, the search was very quick because he felt a definite connection with the third wand he tried: ten and a half inches, reasonably supple walnut and unicorn hair, it had an unusual versatility and adaptability, but the unicorn hair didn't make it very good for casting Dark or Black Magic. Cassandra also made him purchase one arm and one thigh holster, where he could keep his two wands and access them easily.

The two of them then spent the rest of the day shopping for Harry's Hogwarts supplies, and Harry found out that some things, like the robes, where much cheaper and higher quality in Spain than in England, whereas other things like the course books where much more expensive, so they decided to get them in Diagon Alley instead. Still, they had a wonderful time, and when they got home again, they were very happy of Binty's presence, which meant they didn't have to worry about cooking, washing dishes and making their beds.

The next day the Portkeyed back to Greyback Camp and in the afternoon Cassandra, Harry and Joshua went to Diagon Alley. While Cassy was buying Harry's books, the two boys went to Gringotts. They went to the Potter vault, because Harry had discovered that his holly and phoenix feather wand now didn't work for him anymore: it hadn't been working well since Harry had the Horcrux removed, but since his turning he had difficulties even with a simple Levitating Charm. So, Joshua and Harry dug thorough the vault, till they finally managed to find four wands, that used to belong to James and Lily Potter, and James' parents. Harry was very touched in seeing his family's wands for the first time, because knowing they had held and used those pieces of wood for years somehow made him feel much closer to them. He tried them all, and was ecstatic to find out that his mother's wand -walnut and dragon heartstring, eleven inches- was almost a perfect match for him, and he could easily use it when he had to cast Dark or Black Magic. He left his holly wand there, and they headed back to the surface.

When they got back to Greyback Camp, Harry still hadn't stopped gushing about his mother's wand, and even enthusiastically recounted everything to Fenrir when they found him cooking dinner. For once, the Werewolf didn't say any sarcastic or belittling comments, listening to Harry's tale attentively, sharing only a sad glance with Cassandra and Joshua. After all, what kind of kid knew so little about his own mother that finding her wand was such a momentous occasion? Hell, even Joshua knew more about his parents, and they had died when he was three with no money and no friends! Cassandra swore to herself that she would make all those so-called 'old friends of the Potters', who always tried to dictate sweet Harry's life, pay dearly for their sins, and for the utter indifference with which they treated her little green eyed boy.

The next day was the 31st of August, and Harry spent it saying goodbye to Derek and the other kids, who would be leaving for Durmstrang later in the week. During the afternoon Cassandra showed Harry how to make a little purification ritual, and they eliminated the Trace from Lily's wand. After dinner, Cassy, Joshua, Fenrir and Harry all went to relax in the sitting room, and a slightly teary Cassandra told Harry:

"Sweetheart, we got two presents for you. But, you know that if that horrible school ever gets too much, you can always run away right? I'm sure the new Durmstrang Headmaster would be delighted to admit you there! Or if you preferred to be home schooled, I'm sure we could arrange something…"

"Mother," Harry said softly but firmly, startling her because he had never called her that before, "we already talked about it. I want to go back to Hogwarts because it was the first place I ever considered my home, and because I don't want to run from my problems. If I don't face those people who have wronged me now, I never will."

Nodding shakily, Cassandra hastily wiped her eyes and handed him two wrapped up presents, still looking reluctant. Harry unwrapped the first and found a photo album, with loads of snapshots of the summer, mostly starring Harry. The present made tears spring up in Harry's eyes, reminding him of his other photo album, with the difference that when he saw these photos, he knew the whole story behind them, and he could say 'I was there, I did that'. Very touched, Harry gave all three of them a hug, and then unwrapped his other present. Inside there was only a blank notebook, with a light blue leather cover with a carved Thestral on the front. When Joshua saw Harry's raised eyebrow, he explained:

"It's a Protean Charmed notebook. Do you know what the Protean Charm is? No? Practically, it connects two solid things together, and having one, you can modify the other. In this case, if you write in one notebook, your letter will arrive to the other notebook, and vice versa. The only drawbacks are that all three of us will receive all the letters, so for example if you want to tell something only to Mother and not Fenrir or me you can't, and proofreading is out: when something's written, it's written, and it's too late to take it back. Still, it's a very useful thing to have around, especially if you're dealing with long distances. The three of us had something similar years ago, but we lost them somewhere along the way."

Smiling hugely, Harry thanked them profusely yet again, and that night went to sleep happy, though he was quite nervous too for the upcoming confrontations with all those he knew from what he privately thought of as his 'past life'.

* * *

The next morning, absolute chaos reigned in the house. Joshua was a meticulous packer, while Cassandra lived by the motto: 'If I forgot about it, it probably means I don't need it', and simply bought everything she had forgotten to pack. This morning though they were both freaking out over Harry's trunk, making dozens of little lists, adding absolutely useless things that Harry would never need, and forgetting that they could simply send Harry anything he had forgotten via Hedwig. Completely bemused, Harry and Fenrir stayed out of their way, and listened to them scrambling about and yelling at each other from the kitchen.

"_Mutter!_"

_"Was?"_

"Did you put some ritualistic markers in Harry's trunk? He might need them!" a slightly hysterical Joshua yelled from one side of the house to the other.

"Yeah, yeah! Did you put his new books? And the new cauldron? The pewter one was completely useless! And the dragonhide gloves! Don't forget those!"

"_Da, da, mama! _Already done!"

And on they went, sometimes alternating pieces of phrases in other languages in their panic. 'Really,' mused Harry, 'the Weasley household is almost calm in comparison!'

Finally, there was nothing left to pack, and after saying goodbye to Fenrir, the three of them apparated to Platform 9 and ¾. Harry was shocked to notice that even though Cassy and Joshua had unpacked and repacked his trunk that morning, they still weren't very late. Looking around, they immediately noticed a tall bald man and a pink haired girl in Auror robes closely scanning the crowd, and the three of them shared a secret grin, rightly thinking that they were looking for Harry Potter. Even doing absolutely nothing to hide, the gaze of the two passed over the three of them without even a thought, causing Joshua to snort and mutter something derogatory about English Aurors. And Harry was very inclined to agree: they didn't even notice when Joshua scared a little girl witless with a shit-eating fanged grin simply because she was staring at him curiously. This earned him a swat upside the head by Cassy:

"Joshua! You're a forty year old world renown Potions Master! Control yourself! You can't amuse yourself by scaring innocent little girls," she reprimanded him, but her eyes where laughing, and Harry couldn't contain his giggles at the seven-year-old's absolutely adorable pouting face.

Finally, it was time to go, and Harry gave a last teary hug to Cassy, who whispered in his ear:

"If there's ever an emergency and you can't use your Portkey, just call Binty. She's a house-elf, so she can easily get inside Hogwarts, though it will probably take her about half an hour to apparate there from Spain. Anyway, whatever happens, know that we love you and we can't wait to see you again."

A kiss on the cheek and a hug with a misty eyed Joshua later, and Harry dragged his new -charmed lightweight obviously- trunk on the train. Most compartments were already full, but he found one that had only a blond dreamy eyed girl inside and, not wanting to sit alone, asked her if it was free. She nodded her head absently, and stared at him while he put his trunk on the rack, feeling glad that Hedwig was going to fly to Hogwarts so he didn't have to worry about her cage. The train started moving in that moment, and Harry leaned out the window and waved to Cassy and Joshua till they were out of sight.

Sighing sadly, already missing them, he sat back down, and noticed that the girl was still staring at him. Remembering his manners, he told her:

"I'm sorry, I didn't tell you my name. I'm Harry."

"I know," the girl answered, "I'm Luna Lovegood. But you may call me Loony if you wish. Many people do."

Harry arched an eyebrow, and said, "No, thank you. I don't like Loony much. Luna though is a very nice name," he mused, not noticing the blush staining the usually unflappable girl's face, "what does it mean? Do you know?"

"Luna means moon in Italian."

Harry looked at her thoughtfully, and decided:

"Yes, I like it. It really suits you, especially considering your pale skin and white blond hair. You'd look really ethereal in the moonlight."

She smiled at him, and the two descended into a comfortable silence.

Harry had just noticed Ron and Hermione pass by -they looked inside Harry and Luna's compartment, didn't recognize their supposed 'best friend' and moved on- when Luna broke the silence again:

"May I see your fangs?"

Harry stared at her in shock, blinking rapidly, before suddenly smiling a huge fanged smile at her. His sudden forced smile shocked Luna into genuine laughter, a beautiful tinkling cheerful laughter, which made the air seem lighter and the day brighter and warmer. Staring at her in fascination, Harry decided that this petite girl must be some sort of creature or part creature, because there was absolutely no way that a normal human being could produce such a melodious sound.

Luna soon took out a copy of the Quibbler to read, and when Harry casually commented that he had read that issue and found it quite interesting, Luna smugly told him that her father was the editor. Hearing that, Harry immediately let her know that her father should be really proud, because The Quibbler was one of the very few newspapers that his Mother could stand to read. Delighted to have found a kindred soul, the two of them launched in a very engaging detailed discussion on various esoteric or extinct types of magic. They were interrupted only by the cart lady selling them lunch and by the Weasley twins: the two of them had passed in front of their compartment, barely glancing in, when Fred did a double take and came back. The twins stared at Harry for a moment, looked at each other, and promptly came inside the compartment, congratulating Harry on a wonderful prank pulled, that had the whole 'Order' (a vigilante anti-Voldemort group led by Dumbledore, Harry soon learned) scrambling around like headless chicken… or headless phoenixes, the twins joked with a laugh. Before leaving, they left Harry some of their new products: Extendable Ears, Canary Creams and Pucking Pastilles. Very wary, Harry gingerly placed them in his trunk, and told himself that he would test them on the first person who dared bother him.

When the train finally got to Hogsmead, Luna and Harry got off together, and headed towards the carriages. Shocked, Harry noticed the Thestrals pulling them, which he had never seen before, and gingerly moved closer to pet them. Luna joined him and told him that one's name, and he soon found out that Hogwarts had a whole herd of them, and Luna routinely helped feed them. When they finished petting the Thestral, they were one of the last carriages left, and seeing Neville about to get in a carriage with a bunch of Slytherin second years, Harry waved him over.

Looking very cautious and confused, Neville got on board, and only after staring at him intently for a while ventured: "Harry? Is it you?"

Chuckling, Harry nodded, "Yeah, it is. Quite a change, isn't it? The wonders of a summer free of starvation!"

Neville looked even more confused, but let the matter drop.

"Oh, and this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, Neville Longbottom."

Luna smiled dreamily, and Harry continued, "So, did you have a nice summer? I can see you've got a nice tan! You're looking good! Did you spend your summer gardening?"

Blushing, Neville nodded and told him:

"Yeah, Grandmother had a new greenhouse built in spring, ostensibly as an early present for my birthday, and I spent the summer growing some rare plants. Made quite a sum out of them too, by selling parts for potion ingredients."

"Really? What plants did you have?"

Neville began telling Harry about his herbs, at first cautiously, but when he saw that Harry seemed quite interested and was obviously knowledgeable about most of the plants he was talking about, he gained momentum, and the two of them were soon engrossed in a fascinating conversation, with Luna sometimes adding her own witty thoughts. They were still talking when they reached the Great Hall, and waved Luna off at the Ravenclaw table. They only interrupted their discussion for the Sorting and the Headmaster's speech (and didn't even bother listening to that weird Ministry woman) and spent the whole meal talking Herbology and debating the pros and cons of this or that plant. They were joined by a bunch of interested seventh years, who admittedly found themselves floundering at times, because some of that information was way above Hogwarts' curriculum. When the meal finished, Harry and Neville convinced Katie Bell, who was a Prefect, to give them the common room's password and, using the Marauder's Map, they were the first ones to arrive to their dormitory. Harry changed quickly and said goodnight to Neville, before dropping down on the bed, feeling completely exhausted. He added a Notice Me Not and a Silencing Charm to his bed, and was soon fast asleep, a little smile playing on his face.


End file.
